


Dance With Me

by OrilliaOrange



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 05:43:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3316334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrilliaOrange/pseuds/OrilliaOrange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cassandra hates the Winter Palace, Varric asks for a dance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance With Me

If anyone was more uncomfortable at the ball than Varric himself, it was the Seeker.

 

“Good job shoring up that pillar, Seeker” Varric said.

 

The look Cassandra responded with could’ve stripped paint.

 

“Easy there, Seeker, “ Varric held up two champagne flutes “I come bearing a peace offering.”

 

Varric wasn’t sure if the Seeker’s quick smile had been real or a fluke of lighting, but decided to take his victories where he could, imaginary or not.

 

They sipped their drinks in silence, though Varric had come to realize that Cassandra sometimes needed to organize her thoughts before she spoke, and was probably not ignoring him.

 

“You know Seeker, if I didn’t know you better I’d say you hate balls” Varric said into the silence, watching Cassandra’s frown deepen.

 

“I do not enjoy this farce. These Orlesians glorify their petty disputes, imagine that their lies and betrayals are noble!” Cassandra sneered.

 

“Oh my dear! Yes, that Lady Pentaghast! Though I hear…” a clump of gossiping nobles passed well within earshot, tittering and sending glances towards the Seeker.

 

“You see? They feel safe in their Game, in knowing that they can say such things and escape. They feel they have scored a point just for being rude within my hearing.” Cassandra glared after the nobles.

 

“Probably not the best place to ask for a dance, then?” Varric asked, as though the thought had only just crossed his mind.

 

“No.”

 

“That’s what I like about you, Seeker. Never a wasted word,” Varric teased. “Probably impossible with the Merchant’s Guild here, anyways.”

 

Cassandra lapsed into silence again, and for once it was the Inquisitor who interrupted.

 

“Meet me in the Royal wing, get your armour as quietly as possible.” The Inquisitor murmured before darting off, tension bleeding from his shoulders.

 

_______________________

 

Halamshiral had left everyone in a sour mood. Even the Inquisitor who had at least been able to dance with Dorian, was snappy and tired looking. The trip back to Skyhold had been tense, and it was with great relief that everyone scattered back to their respective quarters.

 

Everyone except Cassandra, who had opted for the training grounds. Varric sat down at his desk, tried to write, and spent half an hour staring at their bed, instead.

 

“Andraste’s sweet ass.”

 

Putting his pen down with more force than needed, Varric set off for the training grounds. Throwing open the door, he promptly smashed right into Cassandra, who had to clutch Varric’s shoulders to keep from toppling over.

 

“Fancy seeing you here” Varric mumbled into Cassandra’s breastplate.

 

“Varric.”

 

There was something in her voice that made him draw back to look the Seeker in the eye (so to speak).

 

“Seeker?”

 

“I would like to talk. In private.” Cassandra strode into their room, shutting the door behind them.

 

Varric felt his heart and stomach switch places abruptly.

 

“About Halamshiral, Varric. When you asked me to dance.” Cassandra picked at her gloves. “I was short with you and then there was no time to explain.”

 

“So you didn’t want to dance. Not a big deal, Seeker.” Varric said, squashing down an inappropriate amount of nerves.

 

“The Winter Court...it is everything I hate about nobility. Pointless, empty, and venal. They play their Game for their own prestige, and do not care who or what they might destroy.” Cassandra frowned at the memory. “I did not…”

 

To Varric’s extreme surprise, Cassandra looked sheepish. Sitting down heavily on their bed, she fiddled with the fringed edge of a blanket.

 

Crossing the small space between them, Varric sat next to his Seeker, folding her hands in his, which seemed to give Cassandra her words back.

 

“Anything we did there would’ve been taken away to feed the Game. A look, a touch, a dance. The nobility would’ve torn it apart, exploited it for their own gain. I did not want to see them pervert what we have.” Cassandra said, in one long breath.

 

“You know Seeker, you never cease to surprise me,” Varric said, untangling their hands and drawing Cassandra close.

 

That wicked light he loved so much sparked in Cassandra’s eyes as she pushed Varric back against the mattress. Their fingers met and fought over the buckles of her armour, laughter bloomed between their kisses. When Cassandra was finally free, Varric pressed a kiss against her callused palm.

 

“Care to dance, Seeker?”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> When you speak to Cassandra at the Winter Palace, she's extremely unhappy about being there and I really can't imagine her wanting to dance, or expose any weak points in front of the nobility.


End file.
